


Small Town Polite

by MossPrinx



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Familial Tensions, Fantasy Racism, Farmer Joins the Trouble Trio, Farmer is Half-Gotoro, Gotoro Empire, Multi, Non-Farmer Original Characters, Polyamory, Romance, Slice of Life, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-03-26 08:46:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13854207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MossPrinx/pseuds/MossPrinx
Summary: Denny's fall from grace was a long time coming, critics had said, but it left her right back where she started - right in the heart of the valley. If moving backwards was the only way to find her way forward again, then so be it, but something told her she was exactly where she needed to be.





	1. Denny's Home

**Author's Note:**

> My last sdv fic, Rural Comforts, was a spur of the moment sort of ordeal, with a lot of very....??? kind of plotlines that i threw in on a whim and immediately lost control of. Small Town Polite is the opposite, and a fic i'm really looking forward to, too! a big thanks to kingcaboodle for inspiring me to get back into making Stardew Valley content (and content in general, tbh)!

There was no welcoming committee when Denny stepped off the bus in Pelican town. She didn’t expect one, really – it was about 5am and even the nocturnal creatures wandering the woods wouldn’t be awake long. Shifting the heavy bag on her back, she fished her phone out of her pocket, catching the loop of her keys on her pinky and keeping them there as she looked up the directions to her new home.

“…Oh, it’s literally just down the road…duh…” Her voice was small, not wanting to break the calming quiet of nature, but it rattled in her head anyways, too loud in her ears. After that, the quiet wasn’t so comforting – she was too aware of it now.

_Why am I loitering in the woods before dawn? This is how people die, Denny._

If she could’ve sprinted the rest of the way home, she would have.

\--

The Rosewood Farm that Denny remembered was a bright place, literally and figuratively. The summer sun shining down on her grandparent’s plot of land filled her heart with warmth whenever she thought back to those days; she couldn’t remember ever feeling sad or alone there.

The Rosewood Farm she stood before now did not give her that same warm feeling. Rather, it was more like…like how a person feels when they pass by a house that’s absolutely haunted, except she was right in front of it now, and that feeling extended across the whole area. She could not shake the feeling that she was being watched by _something, many_ things, eyes piercing her from beyond the tall grass.

Hearing the jingle of keys on her pinky snapped her out of her head. Denny shuffled up the stairs, gritting her teeth through the sharp pain that followed when she stepped down a bit too hard. _Careful, or you’ll fall right through the porch,_ she thought as she flipped to the newest looking key, only just noticing how hard her hands were shaking. Behind her, the tall grass rustled in a way that wasn’t wholly organic; she’d blame it on the wind later, that sound of dry grass crunching underfoot. Thankfully, the key fit in the lock with little resistance, the dust cloud she had braced herself for as she pushed her way inside never forming, though the door was just as creaky as she remembered.

Bless Mayor Lewis – the house looked as if it had been cleaned before she arrived, furniture uncovered and cleaning supplies left in the places they were last used. The house was bigger than she remembered, which usually wasn’t the case when you were ten last time you were inside. From the front door, which closed just as loud as it opened, she could see steps leading to an upstairs she was certain wasn’t there over a decade ago. When she approached the bedroom to drop off her stuff, she found it had been expanded, just as the kitchen had. Her bed was queen sized, comfy and new.

She felt the fatigue descend upon her before she had the chance to fight it. Slinking back to the front door, she made sure it was locked before making her way back to her bedroom. She flopped face first into her bed, unpacking and grass goblins be damned as sleep wrapped her in its embrace.

 


	2. Take a Step Back

_Her stage is cold, but the hand squeezing hers is so hot, it may as well be on fire. She’s thankful for the lights baring down on them, making the faces in the crowd hard to see unless she focused on them – she doesn’t need to see them to know that they’re staring, but for all the wrong reasons. A simple tug and she’s gliding along the ice, a song she’d burned into her brain playing from speakers overhead. Her partner throws a smile over her shoulder, reassuring the both of them as they separated, spinning once, twice, thrice, only to return to each other again._

_The pain that flared out from her knee as their fingers touched was so real that it sent her crumbling to the ice. It shattered under her weight, submerging her into the cold, black void that lurked underneath. She could see her partner watching her from the hole she made, expression blank. It was almost as if the audience was leaning over to watch her fall, unimpressed with her performance. She couldn’t swim, but she tried anyway, forcing her body towards the hole she’d made, shouting into the nothingness as she watched it slip farther and farther out of reach. She’d do better next time, she’d do better next time, she promised, she promised, she –_

_She was back on the farm. She was five, sitting on the front steps of her grandfather’s farm with a bowl of fruit while he harvested whatever had grown in that morning. Whatever it was he was working on wasn’t so important, at least, not as important as the woman sitting beside her. She was so, so beautiful, grey curls falling over her shoulders and framing her soft features, radiating love and warmth – it was like sitting beside a goddess, really. She’d only seen this woman in pictures, born too late to encounter her in the flesh, but there she was regardless. The woman’s dark eyes shifted from Grandpa Emil to her and back again, her body not turning but a hand still reaching out to ruffle her beaded braids._

_“People’ll always talk, Den,” She smiled, waving to her husband as he finally looked over at the two of them, his smile stirring a nostalgic sadness in her chest. “You can’t control that. Just be sure to give ‘em something good when they do.”_

_“Yeah,” Denny heard herself whispering down into her fruit bowl, humming contentedly as her grandmother lovingly ran her fingers across the gridded pattern her hair formed on her scalp. “I promise.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to check out Small Town Polite's sister fic, Love and War by kingcaboodle!


	3. Friendly Faces

Denny stood over her work, admiring the bit of land she’d tilled. Her “farm” wasn’t much of anything right then, more land tilled and watered than actually seeded. Mayor Lewis had gifted her a whopping _fifteen_ parsnip seeds, and, as usual, she had greatly overestimated how much space she’d need. Ah well, too much was better than too little, at least.

Looking out over the large expanse of farm she _hadn’t_ gotten to yet, Denny felt her confidence wither – she’d spent most of yesterday clearing the land after Lewis and Robin, her welcoming committee, left, but even with all the rock moving and log rolling and grass cutting, she had barely scratched the surface. She’d had to force herself out of bed that morning just to plant her seeds, body heavy and knee throbbing painfully before she even got up.

Fifteen parsnips are hardly a farm, though. Maybe it’d do for an urban farmer, yeah, but not someone with an actual expanse of land at her disposal. She’d left the city to start anew, Denny reminded herself, and staying in all day was an awful habit to keep, even if her body was protesting. _It’s what I get for keeping out of shape_ , she thought ruefully.

Limping over to grab the cane hanging over the railing, Denny slowly made her way to the small pond in front of her new house, gingerly washing the dirt out from under her fingernails. Shaking her hands dry, she pulled her phone from the pocket of the overalls her friend bought her specifically for the move, checking the time.

_8:55am_

“Store opens in five minutes…” She hadn’t gotten to explore the town yet, and she’d tilled enough land for more seeds…

Well, she couldn’t hide forever.

“Okay. Trip to town it is.”

-

There were some new buildings in town, ones Denny didn’t remember from the last time she visited. The cobblestone paths were very cute, she thought, though probably annoying once the rainy season started. Early Spring was fairly dry for now, though she doubted that would last long.

The first building she passed was the medical office, if the big red plus on the front of the tiny white building meant anything. She was glad it was so close, at least – she’d probably be making her fair share of trips. The general store was the doctor’s office’s neighbor, same as she remembered. It looked as if it had been renovated, the memories fuzzy in her mind’s eye. Something uncomfortable twisted in her gut as she stood outside the glass double doors, a strange but not unfamiliar feeling of paranoia washing over her. Looking over her shoulder, she could see that not many people were out, and those who were hadn’t seemed to notice her yet, so she slipped in without further ado.

It was very quaint inside, very homey. She was immediately greeted by the smell of produce, stands full of fruit and vegetables lining her left side. The other half of the store was more, well, general – toiletries, utensils, cleaning supplies, as well as snacks and quick meals (that Denny would absolutely be making use of for the next few weeks) lined the shelves. And there were people inside, too. A portly man chatted amiably with the man behind the register, who Denny immediately recognized was Pierre, if a bit older than she’d remembered. A purple haired girl watched her like a hawk from the entrance to the back area, but otherwise didn’t move to do anything else. Shrinking under her gaze, Denny turned walk into an aisle, nearly running into a kindly-looking older woman as she did.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Denny apologized quietly by habit, ducking her head as she gave the woman space. Her would-be victim laughed heartily into her hand, waving her off dismissively.

“Oh, it’s alright, dear! I’m alright,” She smiled, patting Denny good-naturedly on the arm. Something must’ve clicked in her head, the metaphorical lightbulb going off when she realized she’d never met her before, and that doesn’t really happen in Pelican Town. “You must be Denny! Lewis said you arrived, but I hadn’t seen you around!”

Denny laughed awkwardly, feeling the attention of everyone in the store turn to her. She leaned off her cane on instinct, putting her weight back onto her legs and hoping no one saw her flinch. “Yeah, I’ve been clearing out the farm and sleeping off jetlag. Nice to meet you...”

“Marnie! I run the ranch by the south end of your farm!” Marnie beamed as she held out a hand, shaking with as much intensity as Denny imagined she would. “Have you met everyone yet? I doubt it, no one’s mentioned seeing you around!”

The grip that shifted to Denny’s wrist was not a tight one, and she let herself be led to the cash register. The older woman didn’t question her situation, but she was still considerate of her regardless.

“Gus, Pierre, I’d like to introduce you to someone! This is Denny, Emil’s granddaughter.” Marnie seemed to light up at her mention of Farmer Emil, and her kindness was well received by the two men she’d interrupted.

Gus’s smile was as warm and friendly as Denny anticipated when he caught her extended hand in his. “Last I saw you, you were barely at my hips, now look at you! You shot up like a tree!”

Denny laughed at that, chest flooding with welcome nostalgia. She felt more confident, then – less like an outsider. “You’re Gus! You ran the salo-…t-the bar, right?”

If he caught her jumbled words, he paid them no mind, instead laughing heartily from the gut. “The Stardrop Saloon is still up and running! Come check it out, some of the youngsters in town hang out by the pool table on Fridays.”

Noting the time, Gus excused himself- he had to get back to the saloon to prepare for opening. Marnie said her goodbyes as well, but Denny understood – animals to tend to, farther away, etc.

As soon as the sliding doors closed behind them, Denny felt the hairs raise on the back of her neck. Turning back to Pierre, she was met with a smile. She felt a frown pull at the corners of her mouth but willed it to a polite smile back.

“Denise! Well, I guess I should be calling you Farmer Denise, now, huh?” Pierre laughed as he extended his hand. His grip, Denny noted, was a lot firmer than Gus’ or Marnie’s. “It sure has been a long time. I remember you toddling around here when our store wasn’t so big!”  
  
Denny remembered too. She also remembered how hesitant Grandpa Emil was to take her to the store with him, his requests to be on her best behavior when she was _always_ on her best behavior seeming so silly to her young self.

“Haha, yes. It certainly has been a while, Mr. Pierre.” Her laugh sounded awkward in her ears, practiced. His grip lingered, but he said nothing more, that same smile plastered on his face as he watched her from his side of the counter. Just as a nervous sweat started to build at the nape of her neck, the purple-haired girl by the back door made her way past them and towards the door – Pierre’s hand pulled away fast after that.

“That was Abby, Abigail, my daughter. She’s a little…quiet, but she’s a good kid.” Pierre watched her as she left, the fatherly fondness in his eyes nearly masking his parental concern. Denny watched her too, feeling a sort of kinship with the young woman – two colorful ladies in a too small town.

Grabbing a basket from the floor beside the counter, Denny made her way through the aisles, filling it with fresh fruit and frozen foods to keep her sated until her farm (hopefully) started producing its own goods. She hovered over the spring seeds, eyes roving over prices and growth periods – she may have been a city girl, but her grandfather had planted the love of gardening in her young, if her plant filled apartment meant anything.

“I’d recommend the potatoes, parsnips, and kale!” Pierre called from behind the register, making her jump. “They grow the fastest!”

Nodding, she grabbed five of each, apologizing to her wallet as she dropped them in the basket and made her way back to the register.

“A discount for our new, favorite farmer,” Pierre winked as he rung her up. Denny smiled wryly, rummaging through her wallet for the correct amount as a weight seemed to pile on her shoulders. He handed her her goods with a smile she’d seen on her father a million times over. “Don’t worry, Denise, you’ll be fine here. We’re not the city, but we’ve got your back.”

There was no point in questioning his kindness – the fact that he was showing her kindness at all was a good thing, though she wasn’t quite sure why she expected otherwise in the first place. Waving goodbye, Denny felt a newfound confidence swelling in her chest; the valley was her home now and, for the first time in a long time, whatever grip the past held on her loosened, if only just a bit.


End file.
